Part Two

RPOV

The sky was as grey as a murky lake. Rich, fresh dew permeated the morning air and surrounding greenery. While the damp, early coolness felt calming, I wished there was more sunshine this time of year; dark days never brightened my mood.

I wore a thick, dark gown with long sleeves and a comfortable petticoat. My luscious, wavy hair sat in a neat bun, and a feathered hat rested atop my head. My feet were covered in heeled, black boots while my hands hid inside a pair of matching gloves. I'd decided to not wear adornments today, for there was going to be a lot of traveling. When people traveled, there were thieves ready to snatch.

"Rose, how did you get dressed and ready so quickly? It took me about three hours preparing for this journey," Lissa exclaimed, exiting the manor and walking over to me. She was dressed in a warm, vibrant gown that illuminated her pale skin. Her platinum-blond hair was half loose, and she wore lots of jewelry.

My eyes rolled. "Oh, Lissa. You're acting as if we're going to the other side of the world."

"We are going to the other side of the world!" Lissa gestured to all of her expensive, leather luggage with gloved hands. "Why do you think I brought all of this stuff, Rose? We're traveling to Russia for Cesarevich Dimitri Belikov's ball, remember?" For some reason, hearing his name made my heart accelerate. Was I excited, maybe a little nervous?

When I had met and courted Prince Adrian Ivashkov, I had felt that way also. Seeing and hearing about him had made my heart flutter and stomach flip. I was always so anxious and excited because I had been consumed by the idea of a prince wanting me, despite my lack of royal blood.

However, he never truly wanted to be with me; he'd been pining after Sydney the entire time.

Hopefully, my experience with Cesarevich Dimitri would be different. Hopefully, something can blossom between us and last for lifetimes…

Ignoring those tortuous thoughts, I grabbed my stepsister's luggage and loaded them into the carriage that was waiting for us. The coachmen bid a greeting and helped me before I went back to Lissa. I began searching our property, looking for any familiar faces. "Where's everyone else? We don't want to fall behind schedule," I wondered.

"The last time I checked, Jill and your father are almost ready for departure. My mother's still getting all of her things packed, and she's planning on eating a full breakfast before we leave," Lissa answered, her sweet voice falling annoyed as she mentioned Rhea. I couldn't believe that my stepmother was really going to eat a full meal before we left in the carriage, especially after her ridiculous packing. The pathways were mostly of cobblestone, which never allowed a smooth ride.

Not to mention, we had to cross the treacherous English Channel to get to the European mainland. If Rhea had seasickness, the ride was going to be absolute hell.

I audibly groaned just as Jill came out of the manor. She was clad in a magenta dress, which contrasted with my charcoal-gray and Lissa's light red gown. Her jade-green eyes watched me in curious confusion as she walked to me and Lissa, setting down her suitcases once she reached us. "What's the matter?" she concernedly questioned. She placed a light hand on my arm. "Is everything all right?" Lissa nodded before I could respond, and Jill just fell confused, her light brown brows furrowing. "Then what's the issue? I don't understand," she asked next.

"Rose isn't happy that Mother is taking so long to pack and wants to eat a full meal before we leave for Russia," Lissa explained.

Jill's eyes widened and her face paled. I supposed she felt the same way I did. "Mother should not be eating right now. She has major seasickness. And she knows this, so I don't understand why she wants to have a large breakfast when we must eventually transport by ship," she said, dumbfounded.

Lissa jerked a slender finger at the door. "Go tell her," she ordered. "Hurry! There's no way I'm allowing us to have problems on this long journey. It's not happening." Jill obeyed and rushed inside, disappearing behind the oak door. After a few minutes, she came back out. Lissa demanded, "What did she say?"

"She's not going to eat a lot, but she's still going to consume something. She doesn't want to fall lightheaded," Jill replied, waiting for her sister to show an unhappy expression, which she did. I placed a hand on Lissa's shoulder to calm her down, and after a few moments, she pacified and smiled at me in gratitude. I returned the gesture.

Suddenly, the front entrance opened to reveal Father and Rhea. He carried all of their luggage singlehandedly, his chestnut-brown eyes and tanned body filled with strain. Meanwhile, my stepmother sauntered ahead as if she were extremely important. Her head was held in a haughty fashion, and her emerald-green gown trudged behind her like a train. A huge, floppy hat rested upon her head, and outlandish jewelry hung from her body. Rhea clapped her hands, her impatience stirring. "Let's be on our way. We don't have time for lollygagging."

With suppressed irritation, my stepsisters and I obeyed, climbing into the carriage and settling on the velvet seats. Father stored his and Rhea's luggage in the compartment, then climbed inside to sit opposite us. Once my stepmother got in, the wheels started rolling.


White waves crashed against the wooden ship. Its saltiness tainted the misty, cold atmosphere, and I wrapped a cloak around myself as my teeth chattered. A strong wind blew against the sails, chilling my skin and attempting to have my precious hat fly away. I could barely see ahead in this weather, yet somehow, the captain had no trouble.

Lissa ran up to me, her small body pressing into mine for warmth. She had to project her voice over the roaring waves. "It's so rough out here," she basically yelled. "I hope we reach the mainland soon. I'm getting a headache." I nodded in agreement. It was so insane being out here on deck; however, I couldn't be cramped down below. It was damp and musty and disgusting.

"Me too," I yelled back. "Is your mother doing okay?" The ship dipped and collided with a giant wave, causing a spray of salt water to hit us in the face. I quickly wiped away the wetness and nearly gagged on the taste.

Lissa shook her head, strands of pale blond hair sticking to her neck and face. "No. She's vomiting tremendously below deck. Your father and Jill are with her, and they gave her a bucket. Once it's full, though, she'll probably come on deck and vomit overboard," she replied, clutching my arm and shutting her jade-green eyes to prevent the ocean water from getting inside them.

This voyage through the English Channel was downright horrible, and I hope I'll never have to go across it again.

I stayed at the edge of the ship, gripping the side as Lissa gripped me. Rhea ended up coming on deck and nearly threw herself off the boat as she vomited her poor soul out. When the voyage got softer and more tolerable, she stumbled away with a green face, wet clothes, and ruined hair. Rhea looked so wretched…I actually wished she'd get better soon.

It had to have been hours, or maybe even a day, before we reached the mainland. The ship docked at a harbor, and my family and I raced off with our luggage. I almost had the absurd urge to drop to the ground and start kissing the land.

The sky had transformed to midnight-blue and was littered with a billion stars that appeared to be countless eyes watching us from above. We were all exhausted and achy, so we decided to hitch a carriage to a French inn and lodge for a couple of days to regain energy and strength. I shared a room with Lissa and Jill, and they immediately went to bed without even uttering a goodnight, while I sat on mine and began writing in my personal journal.

I tucked a strand of dark hair behind my ear. A yawn ripped through me, so I decided to keep my entry short.

November 30th, 1685

The traveling has been hellish over sea, and we are rejuvenating at a lovely inn near Paris, France. I cannot wait to get back on the road and come closer to Russia, to Cesarevich Dimitri. May the journey no longer be perilous, and may it be of complete worth.

Until next time,

Rosemarie Mazur


We took different carriages further across Europe until we finally reached Russia. Since winter was approaching, the weather was incredibly cold and the nights became shorter. Gazing out the window, I stared in awe as I witnessed the glorious city of Moscow. Everything about it remained the same, but I was still captivated by the beautiful architecture.

The carriage rode on the smooth, paved roads. I spectated tall, colorfully patterned buildings that seemed to touch the semi-cloudy sky. Saint Basil's Cathedral loomed before us, reminding me of Fairston Academy's layout, and I gasped at the magnificence of Eastern Orthodoxy. Some distance away was the Russian palace, and I nearly erupted with excitement as I thought of the Belikov family.

"Isn't it just wonderful?" I gushed, barely able to contain myself.

Lissa and Jill giggled at me, their jade-green eyes sparkling. "Of course, Rose. It's gorgeous," they replied in definite agreement. Father happily smiled, love radiating in his chestnut-brown eyes as Rhea frowned and glared, yet I didn't allow her to destroy my mood. After some time, we arrived at an ornate lodge that was close to the royal palace.

The helpful coachmen unloaded our luggage and bid us goodbye before riding off. We entered the lavish building, which was decorated with crystal chandeliers, portraits of Russian monarchs, delicate furniture, and patterned walls. Father checked us in as we gazed around in appreciation.

"This is quite lovely," Rhea commented, running her gloved hand over a glass sculpture and admiring the extravagant paintings, her pale green eyes impressed. My stepsisters and I nodded, walking on the hardwood floors in amazement, our heels clicking and echoing off the walls.

Father got us settled after receiving the keys. The rooms were spacious and adorned with furniture made of a high-quality, polished wood. The walls appeared dark and covered in wonderful paintings and a couple portraits of past Russian rulers. Large, long windows were draped in velvet curtains while the beds had neutral colored sheets of cotton. The bathrooms sparkled with precisely cleaned granite and common tiles. The tub was porcelain and rounded, having little, bulbous legs. A wide, glass mirror hung over the sink.

I hadn't noticed Lissa standing beside me until she spoke. "This place is absolutely amazing, Rose!" She did a little twirl, her light red gown spinning around her legs. "I can't believe we're finally in Russia! We're going to meet Cesarevich Dimitri and go to his winter ball!" She grabbed my hands and we began dancing in a circle like little girls playing outside on a summer's day. I was so excited to be here—I didn't think I had ever been this happy.

"I know! I can't wait either. Oh my goodness, Lissa, what's going to happen?" I asked aloud, worry and fear filling my body, making me let go of her soft hands. My heart accelerated slightly. "What if Cesarevich Dimitri doesn't want to be with me after he has his ball? What if I end up coming all the way here for nothing?" I knew I shouldn't be panicking and caring so much, but I wanted this more than anything, and I yearned to have it become a reality.

Lissa sighed, understanding surfacing in her jade-green eyes. "Rose, I know you're a little scared and worried, but you can't let this get the best of you. I'll agree that it would be beyond great if it happens, however it's not that important. There are plenty of other chances to meet a man who treats you and loves you like a princess," she reasoned, her blond brow knowingly arched.

My body sagged in defeat. I just had to accept the truth of it. I lightly nodded. "You're right. I need to stop being so concerned about this—it won't be the end of humanity if it doesn't go my way." With renewed happiness, I decided to suggest, "Why don't we get some fresh air and explore Russia?"

She contemplated for a few moments then declined. "You go ahead. I'm going to unwind and write a letter to Christian," Lissa said, falling a little guilty at admitting that she didn't want to go with me. I completely understood, though. She hadn't gotten an opportunity to say goodbye to him before we left, and they were courting, so she wanted to continue communicating. Likewise, I hadn't been able to say goodbye to Mason, Edison, and Mia…Oh well. Maybe I could write letters to the guys, and hopefully Mia was coming to Cesarevich Dimitri's ball.

I left the lodge by myself after informing Father of my plans. The weather was still cold—colder than England—and I walked throughout Moscow, staring at the marvelous architecture, wrapping my black cloak tighter around my body. As I went to the outskirts of the outstanding city, I noticed a lot of peasants. Their bodies were almost emaciated, and their eyes looked so hopeless and fairly angry. It was horrifying and sad watching them go about trying to find food and clothes and medicine for their families.

Was the Russian monarchy cruel to their people? Were the Belikovs not what they seemed?

Not wanting to ponder the issue—I feared that it'd ruin my perception of Cesarevich Dimitri—I erased the thoughts from my mind and began searching for a bakery, in the hopes of getting some sweet treats for my family. I only had British money with me, yet hopefully, I could find a way to purchase them.

As I walked around, I was probably not aware of my surroundings, for I bumped into a nicely chiseled frame and staggered back from the force. A strong, masculine hand shot out and gripped my arm to steady me, bringing me closer to their body. I looked up to find an exceedingly tall man with chocolate-brown eyes that burned with apology. "Я прошу прощения, Мисс. Я не вижу тебя," he said in a thick, hypnotic Russian accent. I then realized that he was also speaking the language.

I blinked several times, feeling extremely confused. "What did you say?"

Realization dawned on the man's features, and he cleared his throat, a slight smile pulling at his full, rosy lips. "You must be from England, am I correct?" I nodded. "I said, 'I'm sorry, miss. I didn't see you there,'" he explained in fluent English, however his Russian accent still laced his words. I nodded once I heard him, a small blush tainting my cheeks. This was a little embarrassing, but I wanted to talk to him some more. He seemed inviting in a mysterious way.

I held out my gloved hand. "I'm Rosemarie Mazur," I greeted kindly, allowing a smile to brighten my face.

The man took out his hand to grasp mine, placing a light kiss to the glove. Even though it covered my skin, I felt an electrical sensation travel throughout my body and set it aflame. "I'm Dimitri Belikov. It's a pleasure to meet you, Rosemarie," he greeted back, yet he watched me as if he expected me to realize something, his dark gaze intense.

"I'd prefer it if you called me Rose," I corrected. My eyes then widened after a few moments, and I gaped at the man before me, his words finally registering in my head. I pointed a trembling finger at him. "Did you say Dimitri," I squeaked. He nodded. I then gasped and began jumping and squealing like an imbecile, which caused people to spectate and Dimitri to drag me away from the scene. He had my mouth covered and pulled me into a dark alley.

When he removed his hand, he hissed, "What's the matter with you? Why'd you have to draw so much attention?" His cold tone caught me off guard, yet I didn't allow it to dampen my giddy mood.

"You're Cesarevich Dimitri," I whispered. I couldn't believe it! This was too good to be true. "What the hell were you doing walking around in the city, anyway?" I then demanded, confused and curious. "Why were you disguised under the hood? As a matter of fact, you still have it on." Despite his tall height, I took off his cloak hood and gasped at his handsomeness.

Aside from the chocolate-brown, intense eyes, Cesarevich Dimitri had olive-toned skin, a narrow nose, defined cheekbones, and a strong jawline. His hair was shoulder-length and pulled into a short ponytail that was at the nape of his neck, and a few strands were loose and framed his face. From what I could tell, his body seemed lean and intact with chiseled muscle underneath his cloak. I wondered how it felt under my fingertips…

He didn't answer—he only stared at me as if I was stupid. I waited impatiently, and when he continued being stubborn, I crossed my arms over my chest. Since Cesarevich Dimitri was royal, I was sure to be respectful. "Why can't you answer me, your excellency? I apologize for being so rude earlier, but I would really appreciate it if you were able to tell me," I pleaded softly, unable to prevent myself from moving closer to him.

Cesarevich Dimitri sighed and took a deep breath. "I was doing a patrol of the city," he confessed. "The percentage of Russian peasants has increased over the years, and I've taken it upon myself to know how terrible it is becoming. I don't tell anyone in the palace about it, so I masquerade as a commoner every time I come. I can only patrol Moscow alone—I patrol the other areas with guards and intellectuals." His voice sounded pained, like he hated the harsh reality of this truth. He also seemed angry, as if it was deeply engraved and brewing inside him.

I couldn't help but asking, "Why are there so many starving peasants? What happened? Is it because of the weather?" I had this sudden, profound urge to help the Russian people and make their lives better and more comfortable. No one deserved to be living in a constant state of not being able to see the next day or not being able to be happy with those they cared about.

Cesarevich Dimitri nodded. "The weather is partially true, however I cannot tell you the other reasons. That is immensely private," he replied in a standoffish, hard voice. It made me step back, but it didn't make me hate him. I could tell that there was something bothering him, something so consuming that Cesarevich Dimitri ached to be freed of it—he seemed trapped, haunted. I wanted to talk to him about it, yet pushing the topic wouldn't progress anything.

I decided to say, "I was looking for a bakery, but since I ran into you, I was wondering if you could perhaps direct me to one and loan me some money." He arched a dark brow, and I immediately added, "I know it's wrong of me to demand a royal to give me money; however, I only have British currency, and I'd really like to buy my family some treats." Now, I wanted to slap myself for babbling. I sounded like an idiot in front of this handsome prince and was only humiliating myself.

Surprisingly, Cesarevich Dimitri answered in his delightful, Russian accent, "Of course, Rose. I'd be happy to take you, and I can just pay for you. It's no trouble." I nodded and we got out of the dark alley, walking to a bakery he thought would suffice. He asked me if I was coming to his winter ball, and I said yes. I talked about my family, and he replied that he couldn't wait to meet them.

Conversing with him felt so natural and comfortable—I took this as a good sign. However, he was probably only being polite. I couldn't be a naïve, adolescent girl who believed she could easily enrapture a prince.

After we got the treats, Cesarevich Dimitri walked me back to the lodge. He kissed my gloved hand again, his chocolate-brown eyes twinkling as he gazed at me. My breath caught in my throat as that electrical current washed over my body, yet I managed to say, "Thank you so much for all that you've done for me today. And once again, I am so sorry for behaving a bit disrespectfully at some points. It was highly inappropriate—"

"Rose," he interrupted, "I had a wonderful time. It was great meeting you, and I hope we can see each other again very soon. Enjoy your stay in Russia." Cesarevich Dimitri smiled slightly and bowed, giving me one last look before walking away. I watched him put on the cloak hood and disappear behind its mask as he headed back to the royal palace.

My heart fluttered as I went to my room, the paper bag of pastries gripped loosely in my hand. I couldn't think about anything except for Cesarevich Dimitri…Lissa looked up when I entered, her jade-green eyes quickly settling on the food. "What did you get, Rose?" she wondered, getting off the couch to inspect the treats.

I didn't answer.

Lissa then snapped her fingers, pulling me out of my reverie. "Rose! What happened to you out there? You have this dreamy look on your face, and you're acting as if you saw the most amazing man in the entire world," she exclaimed, not realizing how accurate her words were. She then gasped and bounced once it dawned on her. "You met Cesarevich Dimitri, didn't you? Didn't you?"

I nodded.

My stepsister screamed so loudly, I almost fell to the floor. Father, Rhea, and Jill rushed to Lissa in a fluid panic, concern etched onto their faces, their hands grabbing at her to gain her attention. "What's wrong, Vasilisa?" Rhea questioned, her pale green eyes glassy.

After regaining some composure, Lissa said, "Rose met Cesarevich Dimitri." She seemed about ready to faint. All of their eyes turned to me, demanding to have her words confirmed.

I nodded in the slightest.

Father and Jill erupted into gleeful cheer, hugging and asking me how it went and what it was like. Rhea, on the other hand, glared viciously. She was probably hoping for her daughters to have a chance, but now it was probably ruined, like with what had happened with Prince Adrian.

I couldn't wait to see how this would all turn out. Since Cesarevich Dimitri wanted to see me again, I hoped we could blossom a pure, true relationship. I hoped he'd want to marry me and make me his princess. I hoped, for once in my life, I could finally have a happily ever after.


Author's Note


Looks like things are going well...;)

Thanks for the follows, favs, and reviews! Feel free to tell me your thoughts on this chapter.

Until next time...